


Between a Rock and a Hard Place

by nimrod262



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: BSAA, European Branch, Flying, Gen, Nivanfield, One Shot, Piers Alone, fan fiction, surrender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 04:36:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7028893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimrod262/pseuds/nimrod262
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Piers is left alone and vulnerable, surrounded by enemy forces.  Can Chris save him in time, or will he have to surrender?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between a Rock and a Hard Place

 

"Shit!" Piers whispered quietly to himself.

He realised he was now up the proverbial creek without a paddle. Things did not look good, in fact they looked bad, very bad indeed. Command's intel had definitely been faulty.

"Bloody typical!" he cursed Command and it's parentage. He'd wanted to freshen-up his close support skills, and when the European Branch of the BSAA had asked for help, he'd jumped at the chance. Now he wished he hadn't.

And they'd got the times wrong. For a start there shouldn't have been any bogies in the area at all. Instead they were now closing in on him from three sides. Since he was hemmed in by a hard place on his left flank, he was effectively being surrounded. He'd seen the bogies up ahead early on in the engagement. OK, they shouldn't be there, but at least he'd sighted them and was prepared. They must have been the major units reported in the area. Codenamed 'Billy' and 'Mary'. Wtf was up with the European Branch and their predilection for naming enemy units like weathermen named typhoons? Then some more bogies popped up behind him, and they were quite aggressive, probing the general area with a series of annoying hit and run tactics. They obviously had his position pretty well located, so he returned fire occasionally, conscious of conserving his ammunition, trying to keep them at bay. Command had just designated them as 'Lulu' and 'Ellie' when they went off air.

"Jesus!" Piers shook his head in disbelief. As he did, he could feel the sweat tracking down his forehead.

He managed to get a couple of retaliatory shots off in the direction of 'Lulu'. They must have been accurate as he heard the resulting screams. He smiled grimly in satisfaction. It might buy him some precious time.

Wrong! He'd seen them off for now, but they continued to harry him. And it had kept him occupied when he should have been planning an escape route on his right flank. But the European Branch forces who had protected his position had taken heavy fire from the bogies to their front and rear early on in the engagement. And then, without signalling, they had suddenly withdrawn away to the right. For a while the route remained clear, but the constant attention on his own forward and rear arcs kept him pinned down. He could have kicked himself for not moving earlier. He had got sucked in to a fire-fight just at the moment his friendly support disappeared.

"Damn!"

The nearest guy had seemed competent, probably a seasoned Corporal judging from his appearance and demeanour. But his r/t was non-existent, surely he could speak English? Whatever, Piers was now isolated. The enemy ahead soon moved into the vacant position. He was now cut-off from his only way out, he was trapped between a rock and a hard place!

Piers considered all the options calmly, logically. Like he'd trained himself to do during his time in the Special Forces. He still had plenty of ammo, that was a very good thing. But he knew he couldn't hold his position for long. And what the hell was wrong with the comms? Just static now. He realised he'd been forgotten. Suddenly he felt very alone, and very vulnerable. It wasn't a feeling he was used to. It wasn't pleasant.

He knew one man who might be able to help. He took out his phone, made doubly sure it was still locked in 'silent' mode, then quickly began texting.

"Chris, help, I'm surrounded."

"Christ! Are you OK Ace? What can I do?"

"An aggressive extraction would be nice."

"Piers, you're thousands of miles away, by the time I arrange something you might be . . ." Chris stopped, he didn't like to think what Piers might be. His Ace, alone, without his Captain and Alpha guarding his six. "What's happened to your comms? Can't you speak to your Captain there?"

"No, he's incommunicado at this time."

"Well call the Pope then." Chris hoped the humour might calm Piers down. He seemed unusually jumpy.

"What? No, that's excommunicated Chris! Damnit, this is no joke, it's frickin' serious! I need help, and I need it now!"

"What's your escape route?"

"A vertical climb, without gear, in full view of the enemy."

"Ah! Roger that, I'll call command, perhaps they can scramble a couple of aircraft."

"No, the bogies are way too close, and anyway, I've got no target designating gear. The guy's left that had it."

"Well, at least they might give you a distraction."

"Yeh, thanks."

"OK then Piers, the only other option is to give yourself up, you can always escape later."

"They're coming...........

"Piers? . . . Come in Piers! . . . Please respond! . . . **Pierrrrss**! . . . Oh Jesus, they've got him!"

'Lulu', 'Ellie', 'Billy' and 'Mary' swarmed over his position in a perfectly co-ordinated assault. He raised his hands slowly in surrender. His hazel eyes now hollow and wide, the whites clearly showing in a mixture of resignation, failure and fear. He had a fleeting mental image of a black and white movie clip of captured troops in WWII he'd once seen. He stared straight ahead, trying to regain his composure. Now he knew how they had felt.

"What's your name?" 'Mary's' voice cut through his thoughts like a knife.

"Nivans. P, Lieutenant, B8908140."

"Is that your telephone number?" asked 'Billy', smirking at Piers.

"Nivans. P, Lieutenant, B8908140."

"Who where you talking to?"

"Nivans. P, Lieutenant . . . ."

"What's your _first_ name?" asked 'Mary' again, the irritation now evident in her voice.

"Nivans . . . ."

"Fighters!" 'Ellie' shouted, "Look!" She pointed in alarm as all the bogies immediately crouched down, looking upwards. Two aircraft screamed low overhead

As the jets turned to make another pass the bogies suddenly seemed to lose interest in Piers, scattering in confusion.

"Bless you Captain." said Piers grinning, as the hope returned to his eyes.

Abruptly, the Command channel burst into life.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your Captain. If you look to your left you will see we have a fighter escort. Don't be alarmed this is purely an exercise, our aircraft is in no danger I can assure you. Your safety is always our primary concern here at Agony Airlines, after our profit margin that is!"

The two fighters waggled their wings. Piers could clearly see the lead pilot give a thumbs-up.

"Please return to your seats now and fasten your seat belts, we shall shortly be commencing our descent into Washington International. Thank you for your co-operation."

Piers heaved a huge sigh of relief as he buckled-up his seat belt, 'Mary', 'Billy', 'Lulu' and 'Ellie' were rounded-up by their respective parents and seated for the landing.

God, how he hated sitting next to kids on a long-haul flight. It was bad enough flying commercial with Chris, but some things were even worse!

**Author's Note:**

> This little short comes from my recent experiences flying back from the UK, on a plane where the adults were outnumbered by the enemy . . . I mean kids! ‘Lulu’ kicked the back of my window seat for two and a half hours solid, occasionally aided and abetted by sister ‘Ellie’ whose own kicking caused the young guy next to me to flee about ten minutes after take-off. This left a spare seat for ‘Mary’ who came and sat next to me, spilling food and drink whilst she asked me all sorts of personal questions. Her brother ‘Billy’ kept reclining the back of his chair, and hence my table, all the while staring down at me and poking his tongue out. Ha, ha, the joys of a jet-set lifestyle! :))


End file.
